Fire and Stone
by cocoalover1956
Summary: He came to the Vale to reclaim part of his kingdom, and found a lover.
1. Spark

No army on foot or horse could take the Eyrie, but so high in the air, it would be easy prey to a dragon. But Aegon had come to the Vale so that he could rule its people, not kill them. He landed Rhaegal on a cliff upon the Giant's Lance, the Eyrie just above them. So this was Jon Arryn's home, where he first raised his banners against Aegon's grandfather. The desire for vengeance burned in him, but Jon Arryn and all the other rebels were long dead, and punishing their children would do naught but divide the realm deeper. All that was left was to unite the Seven Kingdoms under the dragon banner.

Surely the people heard Rhaegal's roar, saw his green and bronze scales shining in the sunlight, for all the panicked screams he heard. Aegon coaxed the dragon higher until Rhaegal perched on a balcony on the Eyrie itself. Was this where Queen Visenya took Ronnel Arryn's crown all those years ago? If so, the singers would surely notice.

A small boy and tall young woman, flanked by a group of knights went to greet him. Aegon was almost disappointed by the little lord of the Eyrie, a child who trembled under his cloak. His sister looked still and calm, though her pretty blue eyes were wide with shock. Robert Arryn of the Vale bent the knee not long afterwards. They'd stayed out of any fighting so far and were not inclined to sent men to the field any time soon.

He learned that girl's name was Alayne Stone, that she wasn't an Arryn, but the bastard step-sister and caretaker of the House's lord. She sat with Lord Robert always and his hands stayed bunched in her skirts. It was clear to all that they adored each other, but Aegon needed his Warden of the East to made of tougher stuff.

* * *

He called Alayne to the Lord of the Eyrie's solar, which he was using as his own for the time being. Lord Robert didn't mind at all, seeing as he was more concerned with building up the nerve to touch Rhaegal.

"Lady Stone," Aegon asked when she was seated, "How is Robert Arryn, as lord?"

Her lovely body was poised, her sweet voice polite and unassuming. "He is but a boy, your Grace. Lord Yohn Royce governs the Vale from Runestone in his stead until he is of age."

"And how old is Lord Robert?"

"Almost ten." She replied. Her beautiful eyes held his in place. Though she acted demure, Aegon saw a spark of fierce protectiveness in her. This girl was not one to be cowed. Even with her low birth, she showed him no deference.

Aegon had to stop himself from smiling. "When I was almost ten, I was in Qohor as it was besieged by Dothraki horselords."

"I'm not surprise to learn that you've had a adventurous childhood, but Lord Robert has been sheltered by his mother since his birth. He was taught to be afraid of everything and everyone, but he's learning to grow accustom to the hardships of this war." Alayne Stone's words did not falter, had no hesitation. She became more beautiful was every word, from her lovely dark hair to the curve of her shoulders.

"Well said, Lady Stone." This time, he didn't hide his grin.

* * *

She would come to his chambers late in the night, after tucking Lord Robert into bed.

"After his mother's death," she once told him, "He could not spent a night without me by his side. He's getting better though."

"And what of your father? He married her mother and joined her in the grave soon afterwards."

He then wished he hadn't asked, after seeing the myriad of emotion play out on her face. She fixed her expression into a neutral mask and said, "He was executed for crimes against the Vale. The valemen understand that I am innocent of whatever schemes he cooked up, but it didn't make me popular with them."

"They trust you with their lord."

Alayne smiled softly and kissed him, "I'm the only person he likes. They have no choice."

There were no secrets in this small hollow castle, but his men paid no mind to his activities with Alayne. She gave him her maidenhead and her heart. It was more than he could ever hope to repay. No amount of gold or jewels could pay for her laugh, her sweet wit, the lovely blush of her skin when he kissed her. Only a few weeks since he had arrived, and he was mad for her.

She spent her days teaching him recent history, helping him better grasp the state of the kingdom he was to rule. When he asked her why she aided his conquest, she was intensely earnest. "In the last three years, there have more kings than I can count and they've tore the realm asunder. I have faith that you will bring us peace."

He had her right there, in the borrowed solar while her step-brother was right outside with his pups. It was the first time they'd made love with her on top, Alayne shining above him like a goddess from the songs. He preferred it this way, when he could see her dark hair framing her face like a holy curtain as she came. Even her cries of pleasure sounded sweeter and needier while he kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts.

"Alayne, I love you." He held her tight against his chest and her eyes were bright with tears.

* * *

Aegon had moved his court to the Gates of the Moon waiting for Daenerys to re-take Dragonstone and Jon Connington to subdue the Riverlands. At the Eyrie Rhaegal had been growing more restless by the day and now he was happy to have new skies to roam. He took Lord Robert with him to show the Vale lords he came as a friend. And to have Alayne by his side.

"The Starks hold Winterfell once again." Bronze Yohn reported during one of their meetings. "The pretender Stannis Baratheon died fighting the Boltons and Manderly of White Harbor pulled out the last son of Eddard Stark as if he had the boy under his sleeve the whole time."

"How could he have possibly survived when all the others in his family perished? Wasn't he killed by Theon Greyjoy along with his brother?" Aegon demanded. He heard the irony of his words, but he didn't care. That damned bloodline, already more that eight thousand years old, persisted.

Bronze Yohn read the letter from Wyman Manderly, signed by various northmen lords, in full. Bran and Rickon Stark had not been killed because they had escaped the Sack of Winterfell, and Theon Greyjoy lied in an effort to save his failing conquest. Greyjoy's squire, a mute boy now held at White Harbor, saw them running north when the Boltons burned Winterfell and followed them. When he was captured by northmen, they forced him to reveal their location. Only Rickon had been found.

"Lord Rickon is a boy younger than Lord Robert." Aegon forced himself to speak calmly, "He'll be willing to bend the knee. I'll go north to Winterfell and negotiate peace."

* * *

Aegon ended the meeting in a bad mood. Alayne was waiting for him in his bedchamber. She practically jumped on him the minute he entered and kissed him deeply.

"I heard everything." She whispered happily, "I was listening behind the door."

She was unusually giddy, more like a normal fifteen year girl than he had ever seen her. Aegon drank in her light and buried himself in her warm, inviting flesh. As they laid abed, she covered him in gentle kisses. Her eyes were unguarded, her body totally at ease. He wished he could be half as serene.

"You know a Stark still lives, then?" He asked. Aegon wanted her to understand, to see every part oh him. He already shared his bed with her, so it was only fair that he shared his heart with her as well.

Alayne became worried at his tone. "Yes. Is there something wrong my love?"

He sat up. "Actually, there is. I can't stand the thought of the Starks still living through this boy, and ruling Winterfell after everything they've done to my family." Alayne fell silent and lowered her head so her hair is covering her face. Aegon brushed back her silky locks and lifted her chin, "Trust my love, I won't hurt him. You know I'm a better man than that. After all, he's only a little older than my dear sister Rhaenys was when she died, but she wouldn't have died if not for the Starks."

"Do you truly hate them so much?" Alayne asked in a small voice. Her brightness from earlier is fast fading, and though part of him regrets telling her this, it was nice to have someone to speak earnestly with.

"The only people I hate more are the Lannisters and Baratheon," Aegon admitted, "But they're all dead. Everyone I wanted to have vengeance on died waiting for me to return. I don't think I could hate Rickon Stark any more than I would Sweetrobin, but everything, the downfall of my family, my exile, leads straight to them."

Alayne laid back down and pressed her face against his side. Aegon lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, "That slut Lyanna Stark seduced my father away from my mother and ruined my family. Her traitor brother rose against his rightful king, smiled over what he thought was my corpse, and betrayed the king he placed on the Iron Throne. My only regret is that I didn't get to kill him myself."

"No more, my love, please." Alayne whimpered. "This talk upsets me."

Moving her so she faced him, Aegon kissed her. "I'm sorry my love. I'll stop talking about the Usurper's dogs if it makes you unhappy."

She only nodded and turned her back to him.

* * *

For three nights, Alayne did not come to his bed. She spoke little and could hardly meet his eyes. At first, Aegon suspect he might of frightened her with his talk of vengeance, but as her coldness persisted, he feared something worse. That she had stopped loving him.

* * *

He found her outside watching Sweetrobin play with some little lordlings his own age. "Sweet Alayne, you wound me with your indifference." He whispered in her ear.

She spun around, surprised to see him, and stepped back. He waited for her to speak, but she said nothing.

"Alayne, what have I done to make you stop loving me?"

"Nothing." Her voice, for the first time, faltered.

"A lie?" Aegon was hurt now. When had she begun hiding things from him? "My love, my sweet girl, you know you can tell me anything. Alayne?"

She met his eyes now, and her own were so, so blue and sad. Her hairline was turning from dark brown to auburn. "My name is not Alayne Stone. I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell."


	2. Cinders

After her declaration, she didn't speak; only looked up at him with those wondrous eyes of hers.

"Lady Sansa Stark." He repeated slowly, "of Winterfell. Tell me Lady Sansa, why did you put on this mummer's farce? What do you want from me?"

Her lips pinched in anger, "I didn't pretend to be a bastard for _you_. I've had to live like this long before you set foot in the Stormlands. I told you what happened to me in our lessons, remember?"

Aegon wanted to touch her lips, to smooth her scowl into a smile. This was the madness he would be known for. "You fled after Joffrey Baratheon was killed at his own wedding feast. Some would say you poisoned him."

"I was kidnapped by Petyr Baelish." She explained. "He had a man poison Joffrey, a man I thought I could trust. He took me aboard a ship and told me it was bound for the North, but that was a lie. Petyr Baelish brought me here, remade me as his bastard daughter, and plotted to use me to gain more power."

"But that failed and you...remained a bastard." Aegon took a deep breathe as he thought of her position. The North would fight for her, there was no doubt. The Riverlands would stand behind her. She had the Lord Paramount of Vale drinking from her cup. "Why didn't you go along with these plots?"

Eyes glistening, she croaked. "He wanted to me to kill my own cousin, to start a war for a birthright that has caused me nothing but pain. That's why I was so happy when I heard that my brother was in Winterfell again. I could be with him, and you, and Sweetrobin. I could go home and have a family again."

She stopped, her mouth frozen over with too many words.

Before his brain could catch up to his heart, Aegon pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He was lost in his love for her.

* * *

Lady Stark. Lady Stark. Lady _Sansa_ Stark.

The name of a stranger in the skin of the girl he loved. It rang in his head day and night, pushing "Alayne" out bit by bit. Eddard Stark's daughter, Lyanna Stark's niece. Gods, he's turned into his father, lusting after a northwoman.

But she wasn't just another northwoman, she was still the same girl she's already been. Still Sweetrobin's caretaker, still the only one besides him Rhaegal would allow to feed him by hand, the girl whose lips tasted like lemoncakes. Only her hair was different, the deep brown giving way to shiny auburn. It only made her even more beautiful.

The valemen were not pleased with the deception at first, but they soon accepted that it was only way for her escape the Lannisters. And if they could accept it, why not him?

* * *

"What spell has this girl cast on you?" Jon demanded. Though his face was stiff and serious, a note of anxiety slip through into his tone. "Have you forgotten what happened the last time a Targaryen fell in love with a Stark? She's just like her aunt, I sense."

"Lady Sansa is no more guilty of what all those years ago than Princess Rhaenys or my mother." Aegon replied coolly.

Jon shook his head and poured himself another goblet of wine. His arm had grown stiffer as of late, but he would not see it treated. "See, she is already sowing strife among us."

"She's just a girl." Aegon protested.

"And what of Daenerys?" Jon argued. "She was to be your bride, House Targaryen reunited."

"She won't marry me." Aegon replied, to Jon's shock. "She's like the summer wind, not meant for one place or one man. She told that she couldn't have children, and what is a king without heirs?"

Stubbornly, Jon did not relent. "But why a _Stark_ girl? Explain this infatuation you have with her, if she's just a girl."

"You wouldn't understand. You've never been in love with before."

The minute the words came out of his mouth, Aegon regretted it. His foster-father's face became as white as Viserion's wings. "You don't know what you speak of." He growled. "Love is the bane of duty, and you have a duty to your realm."

"Things are not as they were when my father ran off with Lady Lyanna. The alliance that nearly ruined House Targaryen can be made into the key that will save it. Sansa's brother is Lord of Winterfell, her cousin Lord of the Eyrie, her uncle Lord of Riverrun. That's three kingdoms under my heel without raising a sword."

"You've already won the Vale's allegiance. And you're a fool to think that one woman, however well connected she is, can wield so much power. Lord Tully is grown man and Lord Stark has his bannermen pulling him like a puppet on a string. These men will not kneel on the word of girl they've not see for three years. You need -"

"Yes, tell me more of what I need." Aegon barked angrily. "Will you be holding my hand when I sit on the Iron Throne?"

Impossibly, Jon turned even whiter. "Aegon, I only want what's best for you."

Aegon turned away for a minute to collect his thoughts. He looked at Jon again and more calmly said, "I understand, but I am my own man. If this is a mistake, I will be bear the consequences."

"I could not live with myself if I allowed your dynasty to crumble again." Jon whispered.

Aegon smiled weakly, "You said it yourself. If she doesn't have to power to raise three kingdoms, how much trouble could she cause?"

* * *

The North rejoiced when their lost daughter took her rightful place in Winterfell. Lord Rickon forgot all decorum when his sister stepped onto the grounds. He ran from Lord Umber's side, his great black direwolf at his heels, and hugged her tight around the middle. Aegon felt something stirring in his chest. The last thing he had expected was to be happy at the Starks reuniting. Sweetrobin had come with them, along with a few of his bannermen. Still growing accustom to his caretaker's true identity, he was plainly uncomfortable with the thought of sharing her with another child. After the introductions, he seemed to grow at bit warmer to his little cousin.

Because Lord Rickon was still a child, Mors Umber had appointed Lord Protector until he came of age. So it was with the lords of the North whom Aegon worked out the terms of the alliance. The North would swear fealty with the promise that the Iron Throne would keep land-grabbing southerners out of their lands. Since several houses had been wiped out in the war, fights had broken out over who ought to have the unclaimed lands.

Aegon felt uncomfortable with the way the northerners looked him, as if swearing fealty was like being sent to executioner's block. Mayhaps it was. In the past twenty years, two lords, an heir and a king had all be murdered by southerners, so they did not look to another southerner - worse, a foreigner who had not set foot in Westeros since he was babe - with friendly eyes.

It was Sansa, with her unlimited supply of charm and grace, that brought her countrymen to bent the knee. Aegon had sorely underestimated the North's stubbornness. Without her and Rhaegal, he would have lost the North.

* * *

"Marry me." The word tumbled out clumsily the first time they were alone together since arriving in Winterfell. Sansa had come to his solar unexpectedly to discuss having Sweetrobin fostered in King's Landing.

The declaration startled her and she stood in front of him with a blank expression. Just as Aegon began to feel like a fool, like he should have known that she would decline, her face crumpled, lined with tears. "Don't mock me like that. We both know this can never come to pass."

"Mock you? Never. Sansa, I love you. I want to wake every morning with you in my arms. I want to give you sons and daughters-"

"What men want matters not." She interrupted. "What will your aunt say? What will the high lords says? I am still considered a murderer."

"I don't care what anyone says."

"And that is your problem. You wear a crown and that means everything everyone says is something you should care about. Your power comes from the fealty you receive from the high lords. If you anger them, they will retaliate."

"Do you love me?" Aegon held her face in his hands.

"Yes."

"Do you want to marry me?"

"More than anything."


End file.
